CHAPTER X
ONE NEW YORK DAY
That "happy ending" became a matter of much thought on Ruth's part, andthe cause of not a little argument between her and Mr. Hammond when hecame up to Cheslow and the Red Mill to discuss "Brighteyes" with itsyouthful author. He had come, too, to get a glimpse of Wonota in theflesh.
One of the first things Ruth had done when the Indian girl came underher care was to take Wonota to Cheslow and have the best photographer ofthe town take several "stills" of the Indian girl. Copies of these shehad sent to the Alectrion Film Corporation, and word had come back fromboth Mr. Hammond and his chief director that the photographs of Wonotawere satisfactory.
The president of the film company, however, was interested in talkingwith Wonota and judging as far as possible through cursory examinationjust how much there was to the girl.
"What has she got in her? That is what we want to know," he said toRuth. "Can she get expression into her face? Can she put over feeling?We want something besides mere looks, Miss Ruth, as you very well know."
"I realize all that," the girl of the Red Mill told him earnestly. "Butremember, Mr. Hammond, you cannot judge this Osage girl by exactly thesame standards as you would a white girl!"
"Why not? She's got to be able to show on the screen the deepestfeelings of her nature--"
"Not if you would have my 'Brighteyes' true to life," interrupted Ruthanxiously. "You must not expect it."
"Why not?" he demanded again, with some asperity. "We don't want to showthe people a dummy. I tell you the public is getting more and morecritical. They won't stand for just pretty pictures. The actors In themmust express their thoughts and feelings as they do in real life."
"Exactly!" Ruth hastened to say. "That is what I mean. My 'Brighteyes'is a full-blooded Indian maiden just like Wonota. Now, you talk withWonota--try to get to the very heart of the girl. Then you will see."
"See what?" he demanded, staring.
"What you will see," returned Ruth, with a laugh. "Go ahead and getacquainted with Wonota. Meanwhile I will be getting this condensed plotof the story into shape for us to talk over. I must rewrite that streetscene again, I fear. And, of course, we are in a hurry?"
"Always," grumbled the producer. "We must start for our Western locationas soon as possible; but the New York scenes must be shot first."
It was a fine day, and the shore of the Lumano River offered a pleasantprospect for out-of-door exercise, and after he had spent more than anhour walking about with Wonota, the canny Mr. Hammond obtained, he said,a "good line" on the character and capabilities of the Indian girl.
"You had me guessing for a time, Miss Ruth," he laughingly said to thegirl of the Red Mill. "I did not know what you were hinting at I see itnow. Wonota is a true redskin. We read about the stoicism of her race,but we do not realize what that means until we try to fathom an Indian'sdeeper feelings.
"I talked with her about her father. She is very proud of him, thisTotantora, as she calls him. But only now and then does she express (andthat in a flash) her real love and admiration for him.
"She is deeply, and justly, angered at that Dakota Joe Fenbrook. But shescarcely expresses that feeling in her face or voice. She speaks of hiscruelty to her with sadness in her voice merely, and scarcely a flickerof expression in her countenance."
"Ah!" Ruth said. "Now you see what I see. It is impossible for her toregister changing expressions and feelings as a white girl would. Norwould she be natural as 'Brighteyes' if she easily showed emotion. Yetshe mustn't be stolid, for if she does the audience will never get whatwe are trying to put over."
"The director has got to have judgment--I agree to that," said Mr.Hammond, nodding. "Wonota must be handled with care. But she's got it inher to be a real star in time. She photographs like a million dollars!"and he laughed. "Now if we can teach her to be expressive enough--well,I am more than ever willing to take the chance with her, provided you,Miss Ruth, will agree to supply the vehicles of expression."
"You flatter me, Mr. Hammond," returned Ruth, flushing faintly. "I shallof course be glad to do my best in the writing line."
"That's it. Between us we ought to make a lot of money. And incidentallyto make an Indian star who will make 'em all sit up and take notice."
Ruth was so much interested in "Brighteyes" by this time that she "ate,slept, walked and talked" little else--to quote Helen. But Tom's sistergrew much interested in the production, too.
"I'm going with you--to New York, anyway," she announced. "I might aswell. Father is so busy with his business now that I scarcely see himfrom week end to week end. Dear me, if Tommy only would come home!"
"I guess he'd be delighted," rejoined Ruth, smiling. "But if you go withme, honey, you're likely to be dragged around a good deal. I expect tojump from New York to somewhere in the Northwest. Mr. Hammond has notexactly decided. The weather is very promising, and if we can shoot theoutdoor scenes before Christmas we'll be all right."
"Well, I do love to travel. Maybe we could get Jennie to go, too," Helensaid reflectively.
"She certainly would help," laughed Ruth. "I would rather laugh withJennie than grouch with anybody else."
"The wisdom of Mrs. Socrates," scoffed Helen. "Anyway, Ruthie, I'llwrite her at once and tell her to begin pulling wires. You know, Mr.Stone is as 'sot as the everlasting hills'--and it takes something tomove the hills, you know. He will have to be convinced, maybe, thatJennie's health demands a change of climate at just this time."
"She looks it."
"Well, one might expect her to fade away a bit because of Henri'sabsence. I wonder if she's heard from him since the armistice?"
"If she hasn't she'll need something besides a change of climate, Iassure you," laughed Ruth again. "She hates ocean voyaging, does Jennie;but she wouldn't wait till she could go in an ox-cart to get back toFrance if Henri forgot to write."
There was one thing sure: Jennie Stone was a delighted host when Helenarrived in New York a few days ahead of Ruth and Wonota. Ruth had notintended to go to the Stones; she would have felt more independent at ahotel. She did not know what engagements Mr. Hammond or the director ofthe picture might make for her. So she tried to dodge Jennie'sinvitation.
When the train got in from New England, however, and Ruth and the Indiangirl, following a red-capped porter with their bags, walked through thegateway of entrance to the concourse of the Grand Central Terminal,there were both Jennie and Helen waiting to spy them.
"Mr. Hammond told me to come to the Borneaux. He has made reservationsthere," Ruth said.
"That's all right for to-morrow," declared Jennie bruskly. "Hotel roomsare all right to make up in, or anything like that. But you are bothgoing to my house for to-night"
"Now, Jennie--"
"No buts or ands about it!" exclaimed her friend. "If you don't come,Ruthie Fielding, I'll never speak to you again. And if Wonota doesn'tcome I declare I'll tell Dakota Joe where she is, and he'll come afterher and steal her. In fact," Jennie added, wickedly smiling, "his oldWild West Show is playing right here in the Big Town this week."
"You don't mean it!" exclaimed Ruth, while the Indian girl shrank alittle closer to her friend.
"Sure do. In Brooklyn. A three-day stand in one of the big armories overthere, I believe. So a telephone call--"
"Shucks!" exclaimed Helen. "Don't you believe her, Wonota. Just the sameyou folks had better come to the Stone house. Mr. Stone has taken awhole box to-night for one of the very best musical shows that everwas!"
Ruth could see that the Indian girl was eager to agree. She did showsome small emotions which paleface girls displayed. She laughed morethan at first, too. But she was often downright gloomy when thinking ofChief Totantora.
However, seeing Wonota wished to accept the invitation, and desiringherself to please Helen and Jennie, Ruth agreed. They telephoned amessage to the Hotel Borneaux and then went off to dinner at the Stonehouse. It was a very nice party indeed, and even busy Mr. Stone did hisbest to put Wono
ta at her ease.
"Some wigwam this, isn't it, Wonata?" said Helen, smiling, as the girlswent upstairs after dinner to prepare for the theatre.
"The Osage nation does not live in wigwams, Miss Cameron," said Wonotaquietly. "We are not blanket Indians and have not been for twogenerations."
"Well, look at the clothes you wore in that show!" cried Jennie. "Thathead-dress looked wild enough, I must say--and those fringed leggingsand all that."
Wonota smiled rather grimly. "The white people expect to see Indians intheir national costumes. Otherwise it would be no novelty, would it?Why, some of the girls--Osage girls of pure blood too--at Three RiversStation wear garments that are quite up to date. You must not forgetthat at least we have the catalogs from the city stores to choose from,even if we do not actually get to the cities to shop."
"Printer's ink! It is a great thing," admitted Helen. "I don't supposethere are really any wild Indians left."
The four girls and Aunt Kate were whisked in a big limousine to theplay, and Wonota enjoyed the brilliant spectacle and the music as muchas any of the white girls.
"Believe me," whispered Jennie to Ruth, "give any kind of girl a chanceto dress up and go to places like this, and see other girls all fussedup, as your Tommy says--"
"Helen's Tommy, you mean," interposed Ruth.
"Rats!" murmured the plump girl, falling back upon Briarwood Hall slangin her momentary disgust. "Well, anyway, Miss Fielding, what I said isso. Wonota would like to dress like the best dressed girl in thetheatre, and wear ropes of pearls and a plume in her hat--see that oneyonder! Isn't it superb?"
"The poor birdie that lost it," murmured Ruth.
"I declare, I don't believe you half enjoy yourself thinking of thereverse of the shield all the time," sniffed Jennie Stone. "And yet youdo manage to dress pretty good yourself."
"One does not have to be bizarre to look well and up-to-date," declaredthe girl of the Red Mill. "But that has nothing to do with Wonota."
"I did get off the track, didn't I?" laughed Jennie. "Oh, well! Dressher up, or any other foreign girl, in American fashion and she seems tofit into the picture all right--"
"'Foreign girl' and 'American fashion'?" gasped Ruth. "As--as _you_sometimes say, Jennie, 'how do you get that way'? Wonota is a betterAmerican than we are. Her ancestors did not have to come over in the_Mayflower_, with Henry Hudson, or with Sir Walter Raleigh."
"Isn't that a fact?" laughed Jennie. "I certainly am forgettingeverything I ever learned at school. And, to tell the truth," she added,making a little face at her chum, "I feel better for it. I just_crammed_ at Ardmore and Briarwood."
Helen heard this. She glanced scornfully over Jennie's still too plumpfigure. "I should say you did," she observed. "You used to create afamine at old Briarwood Hall, I remember. But I would not brag about it,Heavy."
"Crammed my brain, I mean," wailed the plump girl. "Can't you let meforget my avoirdupois at all?"
"It is like the poor," laughed Ruth. "It is always with us, Jennie. Wecannot look at you and visualize your skeleton. You are too wellupholstered."
This sort of banter did not appeal to the Indian girl. She did not, infact, hear much of it. All her attention was given to the play on thestage and the brilliant audience. She had traveled considerably withDakota Joe's show, but she had never seen anything like the audience inthis Broadway theatre.
She went back to the Stone domicile in a sort of daze--smiling and happyin her quiet way, but quite speechless. Even Jennie could not "get arise out of her," as she confessed to Helen and Ruth after they wereready for bed and the plump girl had come in to perch on one of thetwin beds her chums occupied for the night.
"But I like this Osage flower," observed Jennie. "And I am just asanxious as I can be to see you make a star actress out of her, Ruthie."
"It will be Mr. Hammond and the director who do that."
"I guess you'll be in it," said Helen promptly. "If it wasn't for yourstory they would not be able to feature Wonota."
"Anyway," went on Jennie, "I want to go West with you, Ruth--and so doesHelen. Don't you, Nell?"
"I certainly do," agreed Ruth's good friend. "Heavy and I are going totag along, Ruthie, somehow. If there is a chaperone, father said I couldgo."
"Not Aunt Kate!" cried Jennie. "She says she has had enough. We draggedher down East this summer, but she will not leave Madison Avenue thiswinter."
"No need of worrying about that. Mother Paisley is going with thecompany. I have a part for her in my picture. She always looks out forthe girls--a better chaperone than Mr. Hammond could hire," said Ruth.
"Fine!" cried Helen. "We'll go, then."
"We will," echoed Jennie.
"I wish you'd go to bed and let me go to sleep," complained the girl ofthe Red Mill. "I have a hard day's work to-morrow--I feel it."
She was not mistaken in this feeling. At eight Mr. Hammond's assistanttelephoned that the director and the company would meet Ruth and Wonotaat a certain downtown corner where several of the scenes were to beshot. Dressing rooms in a neighboring hotel had been engaged. Ruth andher charge hastened through their breakfast, and Mr. Stone's chauffeurdrove them down to the corner mentioned.
It was a very busy spot, especially about noon. Ruth had seen so much ofthis location work done, that it did not bother her. She was only tostand to one side and watch, anyway. But Wonota asked:
"Oh! we don't have to do this right out here in public, do we, MissFielding?"
"You do," laughed her friend. "Why, the people on the street help makethe picture seem reasonable and natural. You need not be frightened."
"But, shall I have to be in that half-Indian costume Mr. Hammond told meto wear? What will people say--or think?"
Ruth was amused. "That's the picture. You will see some of thecharacters in stranger garments than those of yours before we havefinished. And, anyway, in New York you often see the most outlandishcostumes on people--Turks in their national dress, Hindoos with turbansand robes, Japanese and Chinese women dressed in the silks and brocadesof their lands. Oh, don't worry about bead-trimmed leggings and a fewfeathers. And your skirt in that costume is nowhere near as short asthose worn by three-fourths of the girls you will see."
Aside from Wonota herself, there were few of the characters of thepicture of "Brighteyes" appearing in the scenes at this point. Mr.Hammond had obtained a police permit of course, and the traffic officersand some other policemen in the neighborhood took an interest in theaffair.
Traffic was held back at a certain point for a few moments so that therewould not be too many people in the scene. Wonota could not be hidden.Ruth stood in the street watching the arrangements by the director andhis assistants. Two films are always made at the same time, and the twocamera men had got into position and had measured with their tapes thefield of the picture to be taken.
Ruth had noticed an automobile stopped by the police on the other sideof the cross street. She even was aware that two men in it were notdressed like ordinary city men. They had broad-brimmed hats on theirheads.
But she really gave the car but a momentary glance. Wonota took up herclosest attention. The Indian girl crossed and recrossed the field ofthe camera until she satisfied the director that her gait and facialexpression was exactly what he wanted.
"All right!" he said through his megaphone. "Camera! Go!"
And at that very moment, and against the commanding gesture of thepoliceman governing the traffic, the car Ruth had so briefly noticedstarted forward, swerved into the avenue, and ran straight at Ruth asthough to run her down!